


feel your ghost in the night

by tryslora



Series: Mating Games Round 2 [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Community: mating_games, Darkfic, Dream Sex, Dreams, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:36:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Never,” Stiles vows. “I promise, Derek, I will never leave you behind. I am with you to death and beyond.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	feel your ghost in the night

**Author's Note:**

> This is my last fic from mating_games, for the challenge of choosing a fandom trope. Angst/mourning are my wheelhouse, and yes, I went there. I apologize for the number of times I have killed Stiles, but I knew what this story was in my head before I ever started writing, and I am ridiculously pleased with how it came out. As always, I do not own the characters or world of Teen Wolf, I just like to write about them.

Derek never forgets the beauty of his amber eyes, the way they light like dawn when he lies curled together with Derek. Stiles smiles impishly, fingertip grazing Derek’s chest. “Lie back. I want to take care of you.”

Derek stretches under Stiles’s hands, loving the way he barely touches him, setting his skin afire. Heat pools in his groin, his cock filling with blood. “Don’t stop,” Derek whispers. Begs. _Pleads_.

“Never,” Stiles vows. “I promise, Derek, I will never leave you behind. I am with you to death and beyond.” He wraps his hand around Derek’s cock and he can’t help but thrust into the warmth.

Derek wakes when he comes, body jerking into an unseen touch that strokes him through orgasm. Dried tears tug at his cheeks as he rolls over and tries to find Stiles’s scent in the pillow, the ghost of his touch stroking down his back.

#

“Don’t be such a scaredywolf.”

Derek catches his arm, holds Stiles back while the others move on. “Stiles—”

“I can take care of myself, big guy.” Stiles leans in, cups his hand at the nape of Derek’s neck. He holds him securely as he brushes lips to lips. Derek pushes closer, wanting more; Stiles doesn’t give it to him, stepping back with a small smirk.

“Save that thought,” Stiles orders. “Because that means we have unfinished business between us.”

“Something to come back to,” Derek finishes the thought, and Stiles grins.

“Exactly. No matter what we have to deal with, nothing can happen to either of us because there is _always_ another kiss to look forward to.”

Derek pulls him in, hand teasing across his crotch. “Another fuck,” he murmurs.

Stiles exhales roughly. “Exactly. Yes. Another fuck.” He kisses him once more. “For luck. Let’s go kick some demon ass.”

#

Derek hasn’t been in the locker room in years. The bench is cold beneath him and he shivers despite the warmth of a soft sweater and tattered jeans. Stiles stands nearby, arms crossed, rocking lightly on his feet as if he can’t stand still.

It’s _Stiles_. Of course he can’t stand still.

“Tell me again,” Stiles says.

“I have flashbacks, all the time,” Derek says quietly. “I remember things, and I can’t sort out what’s real and what’s not.”

“And you think I can help you?”

“You always do.” Derek slides off the bench, sinking to his knees; Stiles follows, one arm around his shoulder. Derek can smell body wash and deodorant and oil from the Jeep. He sucks it in, holding onto the air as if it sustains him.

“It’ll be okay,” Stiles murmurs.

Derek wants to believe him. 

If only Stiles didn’t have six fingers on his hand.

#

“You think it’s funny.” Derek scrubs the towel through his hair, talking to the empty room. “Fucking fairies and their sense of humor. Pink hair.” He snorts softly.

The door to the apartment squeaks open and closes with a thud. “Derek?” Scott calls out. “Are you talking to someone?”

Derek’s hand curls tight and he swallows his answer. “Just… no.” The touch to his shoulder helps him find his center. “Of course not, there’s no one here.”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Scott nudges the door to the bathroom open, staring at Derek through the steam. “This was our first big pack problem, since—”

“I’m fine.” Derek waits a moment, repeats it firmly. “I’m _fine_.”

When Scott leaves, Derek turns back to the mirror, sees his hair—bright pink—sticking straight up. Ghostly fingers card through it, and he closes his eyes, leaning into the familiar touch.

#

“You _promised_ you would never leave me.” Derek’s voice catches, strangled and tight. He inhales the faint reminder of Stiles’s scent trapped in the fabric of the sofa. Tears squeeze out at the corners of closed eyes; he pushes at them, trying not to let go. Trying not to lose control.

 _Undress. Trust me_.

Derek pushes his jeans down, feels the ghost of a touch gentle on his cock, stroking while he gasps, refusing to open his eyes and see the truth of open air.

“I hear you.” Hips thrust, begging for more. “I dream about you. You talk to me and _touch_ me…” He groans, an unseen grip tight around the base of his cock. “I miss you.”

 _I haven’t left. I won’t, I promise. I’m with you until death and beyond_.

Derek comes with a shout, then curls into unseen arms that cradle him close while he cries.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


End file.
